


Not Enough

by Crooked_Dreamer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, One Shot, Room of Requirement, Sharing a Bed, almost in that order too lol, let's be honest though it's mostly angst, mentions of violence and of injuries but nothing explicit or graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22742464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crooked_Dreamer/pseuds/Crooked_Dreamer
Summary: Draco takes care of Ginny after her actions on behalf of Dumbledore's Army get her in trouble with the Carrows.Not part of Dreamless Sleep (unless, I guess, you want it to be? Maybe it's open to interpretation).
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I'm still working on the next Dreamless Sleep chapters, I've just had this mostly finished since a while ago and finally went back to cap it off.

Draco pulled Ginny to him, and she wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her face into his shoulder. Every muscle in her body burned. Draco held her until her breaths came more steadily, but even when she straightened, taking half a step back to stand on her own, without leaning on him, he didn’t quite let her go.

“You have to stop doing this,” he said, softly. Ginny’s jaw clenched.

“You know that I can’t.”

“You have to stop getting  _ caught _ .”

“Better me than someone else.”

Draco exhaled sharply in exasperation, but when he looked back at Ginny, it was only with concern. He reached up to cup her face with one hand, running his thumb gently over the bruise blossoming across her cheek. Ginny closed her eyes, despite herself, the swollen skin more sensitive to his touch.

“Did they use the cruciatus this time?”

Ginny nodded, and Draco’s eyes flicked questioningly towards the tender skin under his thumb. “Alecto kicked me when I wouldn’t scream.” The inside of her mouth still tasted slightly metallic, from biting the insides of her lips to keep her mouth shut. She always tried to hold out as long as she could, to avoid giving them the satisfaction, but she’d never made it through a third round of the curse without whimpering in pain. 

“Fighting it only makes them keep at it longer,” said Draco, softly.

“I know that.”

“Ginny…” He sighed, again, his eyes looking desperately for something in her own. “I don’t know what to say anymore.” He let his hands slip from her arms, turning away to pace the length of the small bedroom. He ran his fingers through his own hair. “I’m afraid for you,” he admitted. “Just because they won’t kill purebloods doesn’t mean the things they  _ are _ willing to do don’t have long term-”

A muscle in Ginny’s back spasmed, as if on cue, white-hot pain shooting from her shoulder to her hip. She hissed sharply, hot tears momentarily flooding her vision. Draco was in front of her again in an instant, holding her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

Ginny shook her head, screwing her eyes shut until the pain had passed.

“It’s fine,” she said, breathlessly. “I mean, it’s not, obviously, none of this is okay, but this-” she gestured vaguely to herself “-is the least of it.”

“Not to me,” said Draco. Ginny pulled away from him.

“You should care about people besides me,” she said.

“That’s not fair,” said Draco. “That’s not what I meant.” Ginny sighed, sinking down into the chair in the corner, propping her elbows on her knees and resting her head in her hands. 

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“I can brew more numbing potions,” said Draco. He seemed to be grasping at straws, now. “To take beforehand. It won’t stop the damage, nothing that I know of can do that, but at least it won’t  _ hurt _ as much.”

“Would you?” asked Ginny gratefully, looking back up to him. “We give them to some of the first years when they’re given detentions in class. The group detentions, they use kids for  _ target practice. _ ” Ginny clenched her fists, sending a dull pain shooting up her left arm. She dropped her hands back into her lap.

“Is that worse than torture?” asked Draco wryly.

Ginny shrugged, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards. “I wouldn’t know.”

“And I suppose there’s no way I can convince you to use any of the pain potions for yourself.”

“You know me so well.”

Draco shook his head. “Bloody Gryffindors.”

Ginny made a show of looking herself over. “Nope, not this time.”

He laughed, with only a hint of bitterness. “Will you at least let me put something on that bruise?” He was already pulling a small jar from within one of the pockets of his school bag, so Ginny nodded.

“Thank you,” she said softly, watching his eyebrows furrow as he knelt in front of her and gently spread a thin layer of paste under her eye with his thumb. The salve was cool, and Ginny’s cheek tingled slightly as the throbbing faded.

“I brought you clothes, too,” he said, wiping his thumb off on her arm and stepping out of reach before she could wipe her arm on his robes in retaliation. He replaced the jar in his bag, and pulled out his navy blue jumper- finer and more expensive than any that Ginny owned- followed by her favorite pair of red flannel pajama pants.

“Draco, how did you-”

“Creevey got them from your dorm for me,” said Draco, looking slightly embarrassed. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Ginny, her heart swelling in her chest.

“It was fine,” said Draco. “He loves you more than he hates me.”

Ginny made a mental note to hug Colin when she saw him in the morning, as tightly as she could manage without hurting herself. 

“Thank you,” she said, wincing slightly as she stood up, but smiling weakly at Draco and kissing him on the cheek. He had his hands on her waist before she could step back, pressing his lips to hers, soft and slow. When their mouths parted, he rested his forehead on her own.

“I wish I could do more.”

“I know,” said Ginny, managing to keep most of the sharpness out of her tone. She understood all of the reasons he felt he couldn’t truly  _ join _ her, couldn’t fight back, even if she struggled to accept it. She didn’t want to argue tonight. “Can you help me?” she asked, a little sheepishly, pulling away and unbuttoning the six buttons on her robes that only reached from her throat to halfway down her chest. “It’s my shoulder, I can’t-”

“Yes,” said Draco, “Of course.”

_ -lift my own robes over my head, _ Ginny filled in the rest of her sentence in her head.  _ Hold a quill properly. _ She gave herself something like an internal glare.  _ That was one day. Two weeks ago _ . Still, the memory of the way her hands had trembled, so thoroughly outside of her control, was frightening.

Draco bunched her robes up around her shoulders, gently guiding her arms out of her sleeves before pulling the garment up over her head, leaving Ginny in just her gray sports bra and the leggings she wore under her school robes during the winter. The cold air in the room raised gooseflesh along her exposed skin. 

“Thanks,” said Ginny, reaching for the jumper Draco had brought her. It was one of his, even though she knew for a fact that he still had one of hers, from the week before. They wore basically interchangeable sizes, in jumpers, at least; Draco was a few inches taller than Ginny, and his shoulders a bit broader, but Ginny’s softer frame filled out a sweater somewhat more than did the slender build that had been passed down to Draco through generations of selectively-bred Malfoys. So it evened out, more or less. 

She had an easier time of putting clothes on than taking them off, when her shoulder was acting up, and managed the jumper without Draco’s help. It smelled like him.

Draco pulled off his own robes, already wearing his night clothes underneath them, and Ginny collapsed onto the bed, feeling some of the stiffness begin to leak out of her back and shoulders against the plush mattress. A sigh of relief escaped from deep in her chest.

“Better?” asked Draco, sliding in under the covers.

“Mmhm.”

He had rolled over to face her, and now stretched out one hand to rest softly on her waist. Ginny turned towards him, nearly closing the narrow distance between them. His breath was warm on her face. He was looking at her in that way he sometimes did, when they were alone; not with any particular emotion, but with his face open, instead of closed off as it usually was, and eyes that met hers and didn’t look away, even when there was no message to convey by it. Like he was looking at her just to look at her. 

His hair was longer these days than Ginny had seen it before, and not slicked back as often. Tonight several pieces fell over his forehead, almost into his eyes, and Ginny reached and brushed soft blond hair out of his face. Draco’s eyes closed, for only a second, and then his hand caught hers and brought it to his lips. His gaze didn’t leave her face; he was still watching her like he was drinking her in.

Ginny dropped her hand to his chest, warm under his thin linen sleep shirt, and Draco’s hands ventured under the hem of her jumper- his jumper, rather, on her body- taking hold of the soft flesh of her waist and pulling her closer, until there was no space between them, only Ginny’s hand on his chest. Draco’s arms wrapped around her. One hand rested near her lower back, while the other moved up, almost to her shoulders, his forearm running along her back under the jumper and pressing her close to him. The inside of his wrist was soft and smooth and warm against her spine. His thumb pressed gently across the muscle in her shoulder, following the seam of her bra strap. Always, something was moving, just a little bit, whether it was his hand rubbing slow circles in her lower back, or his fingers pressing gentle massages into her stiff muscles, or just one thumb, stroking back and forth, like he needed not only to be holding her but to  _ touch _ her. His light touches sent tingling shivers across Ginny’s skin, like ripples in the garden pond at the Burrow. She wrapped her arms around his chest.

The jumper was pulled up, slightly, to accommodate the addition of Draco’s arms, baring a few inches of Ginny’s belly against which Draco’s own taut stomach was pressed, his body heat emanating through his thin shirt. She couldn’t see his face anymore; her face was buried in his neck, but when she pressed her lips to his throat she could feel his exhale travel through him, from his stomach, deflating back from her own, to his chest, which trembled slightly in her arms, to his breath stirring her hair. Ginny found his knees with her own and intertwined her legs with his. The hand on her lower back moved until his arm crossed her back and his hand cupped her side, his thumb still pressing gently into her back while his fingers came to rest between the soft skin of her stomach and the firm support of the mattress.

“I can’t lose you,” murmured Draco, his voice low and throaty. His arms tightened around her.

“I’m sorry,” said Ginny, after a moment, because she didn’t know what else to say.

“If I could just keep you safe,” said Draco, his fingers flexing against her back. “If I could do more, without…” He exhaled into her hair, his chest shuddering against hers. “I wish I could even do  _ this _ properly,” he said. “Without sneaking around, wondering when it’s going to get one of us- when it’s going to get  _ you _ -”

“We would’ve been sneaking around even if there wasn’t any war,” Ginny reminded him, one corner of her mouth quirking upwards. “With only marginally lower stakes.”

Draco didn’t laugh. “I won’t let you go,” he said. “Not ever. I’d do anything. If something happened to you- I couldn’t-” his voice broke, and Ginny’s breath hitched in her throat. Everything in her reached for him. They were pressed almost as closely together as they could be, and it still felt to Ginny as though they were miles apart; horribly, heart-wrenchingly alone. “Do you hear me?” he said, almost begging.

“I love you,” she said, suddenly, with another surge of feeling. His chest rose and fell once with the force of his breath, and she could feel his heart thudding almost against her own.

“I love you,” he echoed, hoarsely. “God, Ginny, I love you. Is that enough? Can it be enough?”

Ginny wanted to say yes, but it caught in her chest. She knew the word, if she’d said it, would eventually be made a lie. But it was enough for then, for that moment; and maybe, if they were lucky, for the next one.

She pulled back and kissed him, holding his nightshirt in her fists, and his mouth pushed back desperately against hers. His arms tightened around her. She kissed him until the metallic aftertaste was gone from her mouth, and all she could taste was him. She kissed him until they were both breathing in shallow gasps; until Draco’s lips began to slow beneath her own; until he shifted his hands slightly and one finger pressed into just the wrong spot, and a nerve in her shoulder twisted painfully. Ginny hissed involuntarily as a pinching sensation washed down her arm.

“Shit, Ginny, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay,” gasped Ginny, her shoulder still throbbing. “I’m okay,” she said again. “It wasn’t that bad. It just surprised me.” 

Draco readjusted the hand on her back, and brushed another kiss into her hairline, where his lips barely met her cheekbone. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, gradually exerting more pressure. Ginny nodded, and Draco hugged her to his chest. Ginny allowed her eyes to close, allowed herself to simply be held, so tightly that she thought her racing heart might manage to jump out of her chest and into his own.

“I love you,” said Draco, as if for the first time, as if for the hundredth time, as if he might not get the chance to say it again. “I love you.”

Ginny didn’t know how long they lay there, holding each other in the darkness, before they both drifted off to sleep; it didn’t matter. It could have been until the end of time, and it wouldn’t have been enough.


End file.
